


Nail Polish

by Kaiyou



Series: The Sweetest Thing (Just Desserts Verse) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dresses, Established Relationship, Humor, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Nail Polish, Phone Sex, Polyamory, Teasing, a little voyerism/exhibitionism, background TenSemi, blowjob, poor bo is at work during this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8298329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyou/pseuds/Kaiyou
Summary: Kenma is skeptical when Akaashi offers to paint his nails but reluctantly agrees. The only problem is, what are they going to do while they dry? (aka the spicy part of Kenma's bday gift, enjoy!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is set in the same AU as "[Just Desserts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8243005)", and the background of the foursome's relationship is explored there. This is like 50% fluff/10%humor/60% smut.

Kenma’s toes were blue.

Well, toenails. 

Light blue, the color of the sky by the ocean in the middle of August. One big toe had a bright yellow flower on it with a clear sequin in the middle. The world was a very strange place.

He was holding his game in his hands, but he kept getting distracted by the light glinting in the little sequin on his big toe. He was sitting in the middle of his bed at home, feet pressed together, enjoying the silence. He was wearing a dress, of all things. An airy white sundress covered with a pattern of blue and yellow flowers. It still felt strange to wear dresses, even in the comfort of his own home. He fully believed Akaashi when Akaashi told him it wasn’t a gender thing, had heard the whole lecture on gender presentation and fluidity of dress, but still.

If it wasn’t for the fact that dresses were so damned convenient, he’d probably stick to shorts. Well, it was convenient, and Akaashi liked it. Kuroo and Bo liked it too, but Akaashi was the only one of them that was really into it. 

Which led up to the reason that Kenma had blue toes. 

Akaashi and Semi liked to relax on their days off, at least once a month. Most people probably would’ve had issues with being good friends with their ex's boyfriend, but for some reason, Semi and Akaashi worked. They were both, to put it mildly, beautiful, and both enjoyed indulging that beauty. For them, that meant spas and shopping and mani-pedis and hair salons. Sometimes they dragged Kuroo along, sometimes Bo or Tendou, but more often than not the task of chaperone fell to Kenma.

“Feeling better, Kenma?” Akaashi murmured, peering into the room.

“Yes,” Kenma replied, looking up. Akaashi looked stunning. As usual. Truth be told, Kenma wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that one of his boyfriends liked to wander the house in lingerie for no discernible reason. Today that meant a tight black long sleeve crop top, black lacy panties, and a set of black stockings complete with garter belt. “Semi still here?”

Nodding, Akaashi slipped into the room. His toes were silver, mutely shining under the sheer black fabric of the stockings. “He and Kuroo are discussing architecture again. Something Greek this time, I think.”

“I see,” Kenma said, glancing back as Akaashi crawled onto the bed next to him, rolling over on his back with his head at the foot of the bed. Akaashi stretched, bending his knees and lifting his arms above his head. A small bag was hanging from his hand. His belly was far too distracting, soft planes and curves without a spot of hair. 

Kenma liked mapping his lovers’ bodies. Each one was different. Bokuto was all muscles and thick thighs, hips and belly grown solid over the years because of his job as a chef and the lack of time to exercise. He loved resting his head on that belly, listening to Bokuto tell him stories about customers and the funny things that happened in the kitchen. Kuroo was still lean but not as muscular as he had been in high school. His back often ached from sitting at a desk all day writing, and he loved it when Kenma gave him backrubs. Kenma was, strangely enough, the most in shape of any of them - he’d grown addicted to morning runs, loving the high and the silence, those cool moments padding through a world that seemed to be wholly his.

But Akaashi was, as always, gorgeous.

“Like it?” Akaashi murmured, grey-green eyes watching him. “Semi got the same outfit. His is in white, though - except for the panties. They’re fuschia. Look good, too.”

“Semi’s wearing lingerie and talking to Kuroo about architecture.”

Lips quirking, Akaashi said, “Yes.”

Kenma just shook his head. He swore he lived in the strangest household. It made him happy, though. It wasn’t like anything would happen - Tendou was the only person who had ever gotten Semi interested in sex or romance, and Kuroo was basically oblivious to anyone but them. It was the furthest thing from what Kenma had expected growing up - and he loved it.

“I’m sorry about the woman at the salon,” Akaashi murmured. “She’s new. Good hairdresser, I’m told, but no sense of tact.”

Kenma shrugged. He’d already been on edge from the fact that they’d gone to to the nail salon and he’d had strangers touching his feet. When they’d gone to the salon he’d completely zoned out, focused solely on his game while he sat in a chair near Akaashi and Semi while they did whatever they had to do. When the woman had come up and started criticizing his hair, touching it like she was going to do something to it, he’d been just about frozen until Akaashi came up and told the woman off.

Kenma liked his hair just the way it was. Akaashi and Bokuto and Kuroo liked it too. No one else’s opinion mattered.

“It’s fine,” Kenma said. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Still,” Akaashi said, turning on his side and reaching out to stroke the soft fabric covering Kenma’s lower back. 

Shrugging, Kenma hunched over his game and let the touches soothe him, breathing out as Akaashi traced circles over his backbone and down over his hip. He liked Akaashi’s touches. Akaashi knew him, loved him, and never pushed him further than he could handle.

The touches slid up his side, almost tickling, and then down his arm, Akaashi pulling his hand away from the game so he could inspect it. “Hmm,” he murmured, lips pursing into a frown. “You’re biting your nails again.”

“Not much,” Kenma murmured. 

“Well, I still want to paint them.”

Oh. That was what the bag was.

Kenma pondered that. He never got his nails done when they were out. It was bad enough having people touch his feet; at least then he got to play his game to distract himself if it got too bad. Akaashi sometimes got it in his head that Kenma should have his nails done, though, and was more than capable of doing it himself.

“Is that ok?” Akaashi asked, glancing up at him. “The kids are coming to visit this week, and you know Mikoto likes seeing her uncles all pretty.”

That made Kenma smile. Mikoto was a shy child, had been special to Kenma since birth. Her younger sister Akiko had inherited a personality a lot more like her uncle Bokuto and was still a little confused about why she now had a big sister instead of a big brother. Fortunately, Bokuto’s sister and her husband were supportive, but Kenma liked to help however he could.

“Alright,” he said, putting the game down and turning to face Akaashi.

Smiling, Akaashi sat up and unzipped his bag, laying it flat. There were three bottles of polish inside next to a tube of lotion and some tools that would have looked frightening if Kenma hadn’t known Akaashi knew what he was doing.

“Blue and yellow,” Kenma murmured, glancing from the bottles to his toes. 

“‘It’s a Boy’, and ‘One Chic Chick’,” Akaashi answered, lips twitching. “Same as the ones on your toes. Plus the top coat, of course.”

“Of course.” Akaashi wouldn’t do anything less than the best. 

The lotion came first, the scent of lavender rising into the air. Kenma liked this part best, Akaashi’s fingers massaging his palms, moving over every single finger before working up his wrists. He loved Akaashi’s hands. Setter’s hands, like his, but with longer fingers that knew exactly how to press and rub. It was probably those hands that had first seduced him back in high school. The touches Akaashi had left on his skin were different than the ones Kuroo gave back then, lingering, teasing, stroking Kenma until he was thirsty for more. And when those fingers curled around his cock or pressed inside -

“Zoning out on me?” Akaashi murmured.

Kenma flushed guiltily and looked up into knowing eyes. 

One eyebrow cocked up in question. “Exactly what were you thinking about?” 

“Nothing,” Kenma muttered, earning a drag of perfectly manicured nails along his palm.

“Well then,” Akaashi said. “I suppose you should continue.”

Scrunching up his nose Kenma sighed, watching as Akaashi picked up a thin metal tool and gently pressed at his cuticles. It was so easy giving his hands over into Akaashi’s care. Relaxing, almost. Kenma did so much with his hands. Type, program, game... his hands were his power, the way he communicated with the world. But here, watching Akaashi smooth on layer after layer of baby blue, he could truly be silent.

He watched as Akaashi used a tiny brush to paint whorls of yellow flowers over the light blue lacquer, quietly admiring the deep plum of Akaashi’s own nails. Akaashi even put tiny little sparkling things in the middle of the flowers on his thumbs, setting everything with a thin topcoat. 

“Do you like them?” Akaashi asked, watching as Kenma raised his hands and curled his fingers so he could get a proper look.

Kenma nodded. “Pretty.”

“Good,” Akaashi said. “Now you have to let them dry. Make sure not to touch anything or it could rub off, and I’d have to do them all over again.”

“Of course,” Kenma said. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this, after all. He just glanced down at his game forlornly, trying to remember how long it would take for them to dry.

Then he became aware of the circles that Akaashi was lazily drawing on his knee.

Akaashi grinned once he saw that he had Kenma’s attention.

Kenma raised an eyebrow, growing alarmed as magenta-coated fingertips traveled up and flipped the hem of his skirt.

“Now remember,” Akaashi purred, “you can’t touch anything.”

Kenma groaned, realizing that he’d let his sense of false security get him lured into a trap. 

Akaashi’s fingers teased the insides of his thighs, pushing back white cotton fabric to reveal what Kenma was sure Akaashi already knew: that Kenma hadn’t bothered to put on any underwear when they got home. He certainly hadn’t been intending this.

Well, probably.

Sighing he let Akaashi spread his legs, pushing them up until he was on full display.

“You can hold your knees, kitten,” Akaashi murmured, glancing up at him. “I know you’ll need something to hold to. Too bad you aren’t wearing those pretty knee-highs I got you last month.”

Kenma just scowled. It was vaguely annoying when Akaashi got like this. Only vaguely because Akaashi had rolled to get on hands and knees between Kenma’s legs, ass stuck up in the air like he was the cat here. The black of his panties and garters were a perfect contrast to the smoothness of the globes of his ass, pale skin that Kenma definitely wanted to markup later. For now, though, he just shivered and rolled back, happy that he was close enough to the pillows to relax. 

Akaashi’s nails were almost cool in contrast to the heat of his fingertips. He was teasing again. Lightly playing with Kenma’s cock, lifting his balls and moving them from side to side, humming in satisfaction as he took the time to make a thorough exploration. 

“I do wish you’d let me wax you,” Akaashi murmured.

“You’re insane,” said Kenma.

“Bokuto let me,” Akaashi retorted. “Kuroo would’ve too if you hadn’t won that bet.”

“I like Kuroo’s hair,” Kenma grumbled. “And Bokuto was so whiny when his was growing back out -”

“You don’t like me smooth?” Akaashi said, lifting up enough that Kenma could see his eyes. They looked less than pleased.

Kenma just scowled at him. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

Lips quirking, Akaashi shrugged. “True,” he murmured, leaning back down and blowing hot air over Kenma’s cock, “but I’ll get those soon enough.”

Kenma closed his eyes, trying to keep his composure as Akaashi’s mouth came into play. Tongue giving little licks as Akaashi lifted his cock, lips sucking at his thighs, teeth ever-so-gently running over his balls. It was the most delicious form of teasing and Akaashi knew how much he loved it. 

“Akaashi, I’m -” came a voice from the doorway and Kenma jerked.

“Out!” he squeaked, flushing bright red as Semi stepped away from the door with a laugh. It wasn’t like it was the first time the man had caught them in the middle of something like this, but it embarrassed Kenma every single time.

“I think I’ll show myself out, Kuroo-san,” he heard the man say. “Also, you might be needed in there.”

“Oh?” Kuroo asked from the hallway, soon stepping into view. “Oh ho ho, I see.”

Kenma wanted to glare at him but Akaashi had chosen that moment to bite down on a very sensitive patch of his inner thigh.

Kuroo’s grin was ruthless as he leaned against the doorframe, fingers running up and down the fabric of his black yukata. “Is this a private party or can I join in?”

Sighing, Kenma waited for Akaashi to lift his head and answer. 

“Hmm,” Akaashi murmured, kissing the side of Kenma’s knee. “You can watch.”

“Aww, but there are so many good angles,” Kuroo murmured, fishing his phone out of his pocket and stepping closer. “However am I going to pick one?”

Akaashi frowned as Kuro’s hand slid up and over his ass, snapping the black elastic of a garter. “I said watch.”

“Watching with my fingers doesn’t count?”

Kenma chuckled. “I think he wants to get in trouble.”

“If he isn’t careful,” Akaashi growled, “trouble might mean not sitting on his ass for a week. He can write perfectly well sitting seiza.”

“Fine, fine,” Kuroo said, moving to sit next to Kenma on the bed. “Pretty dress, kitten. Pretty nail polish too.”

“It’s not dry yet,” Kenma muttered.

“Oh, is that the game? Alright. I’ll play along.”

Akaashi nuzzled Kenma’s knee, watching with narrowed eyes as Kuroo snuggled back behind Kenma and pulled him close. “No touching,” he growled. “No kissing either.”

“Fine, fine. Mind if I just -”

Not waiting for a reply, Kuroo pulled at the fabric of Kenma’s skirt, tucking it up under his arms. Now everything was exposed. And of course, the phone came next, showing Kenma a lovely shot of Akaashi’s ass. It was closed too soon, Kuroo opening his contacts and hovering over a name.

“Kuro, please,” Kenma whined, cheeks heating up again.

“Bokuto?” Akaashi asked, kissing back down Kenma’s thigh.

“That alright?”

“Oh, yes.”

Kenma sucked in a breath, fighting a groan as Akaashi sucked his balls into his mouth. “So cruel,” he muttered.

“Oh, but kitten, it’s only fair that your husband knows what you get up to while he’s working, isn’t it?” Kuroo crooned.

Groaning Kenma closed his eyes, wondering how long Kuroo and Akaashi would milk the whole ‘husband’ thing. Still, he opened them again when he heard Bokuto’s voice as he answered the phone.

“Hey hey hey, bro!” Bokuto said. “Oh wait - Kenma? Ah, shit - just a minute -”

There was scrambling as Bokuto moved, and then the sound of a slamming door. Then he was back, sitting in his office chair and staring at the phone with wide eyes. “Kuroo! I thought I told you to warn me before calling like this!” he hissed out.

Kenma would’ve laughed except Akaashi choose that moment to take the head of his cock in his mouth.

“Kenma?” Bo squeaked. “Fuck, oh fuck baby, you look - what’s going on? Let me see, it’s not fair to just -”

“Kenma’s caught in a little predicament,” Kuroo murmured, nuzzling the top of his head. “Evidently he’s waiting for his nails to dry.”

“Oh?”

Kuroo chose that moment to flip the camera, displaying the sight of Akaashi sucking Kenma down whole, ass in the air, Kenma holding his legs wide open.

“Fuck,” Bokuto breathed out. “Fucking hell that never gets old.”

Kenma watched his face voraciously, loving the spots of color that rose up in Bokuto’s cheeks. “You coming home for me early, Bo?” he asked, “I’m so lonely.”

Akaashi almost choked. Behind him, Kenma felt Kuroo shaking with laughter at the tone in his voice.

“Oh man, oh shit, fuck Kenma, I wish I could baby...” Bokuto said, babbling a bit, eyes still glued on the lewd things Akaashi was doing.

“But Bo...” Kenma whined, knowing he was putting his husband in an impossible position because there was no way Konoha would let him leave early. He glanced up at Kuroo, smirking in response to his grin, and jumped when Akaashi pinched him. 

“I think Akaashi wants you to focus, Kenma,” Kuroo murmured.

It was probably true, but he couldn’t help but love the mixture of having all three lovers’ attentions on him. He heard the sound of Bokuto unbuckling his belt then the zipper of his pants. The thought of his husband jerking himself off to this wasn’t as appealing as having him actually with them, but he’d take what he could get.

Then there was a loud knock on Bokuto’s office door.

“Bokuto-san, you need to get your ass out here right now. Shift is starting.”

“Fuck!” Bokuto groaned. “Five minutes?”

“Now!” Konoha yelled.

“Fine,” Bokuto grumbled. “You’d think owning your own restaurant would let you... aww man. Fuck. I’ll take care of you later, baby, ok? Love you, Kenma. You too Kuroo. And love you, Akaashi, love your ass!”

Kuroo giggled and they watched as Bokuto stuffed his phone in his pocket, the sound of a redone zipper and belt echoing through the black screen. Then Kuroo hung up.

Akaashi pulled off. “If you are quite done with your shenanigans, Kuroo-san,” he muttered, licking swollen lips. He did not look amused.

“Ah,” Kuroo said.

“I think my nails are dry,” Kenma said, lips quirking, pulling Akaashi’s full attention back down to him. 

Akaashi narrowed his eyes and they stared at each other a moment, reading and testing without words, Then Akaashi smirked. “I don’t think they are,” he said, glancing down at Kenma’s still-hard cock. “You wanna make a bet on it?”

Kenma thought for a moment. He liked betting with Akaashi. The results of their bets were also very interesting. Still, Akaashi had gone to a lot of effort to set up this little scenario, and it would be a shame to let all that work go to waste. He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”

The smirk Akaashi gave him was downright predatory. “Good,” he said, then dropped back down to swallow Kenma’s cock to the root.

Without the distraction of the phone call it was intense as hell, especially when Kuroo broke the rules and ran his hands down Kenma’s arms, fingers curling around his wrists. 

“Feel good, kitten?” Kuroo crooned, shifting to nuzzle his neck. “He looks so fucking thirsty for you, Kenma, just look at the way he’s swallowing you down.” 

Kenma couldn’t help but look. Couldn’t help but feel the tight heat of Akaashi’s mouth, the perfect little ways his tongue pressed and rubbed and twisted, the way he’d spend time suckling at just the tip and tonguing the slit in a way that was almost too much, or how he’d push himself all the way down so that the head of Kenma’s cock was in his throat. 

Fuck, he wanted, he wanted -

He gasped as Kuroo pulled his wrists back, one corner of his mind curling his fingers to make sure his nails didn’t touch anything, hyper aware of the pressure against the inside of his arms. Akaashi growled at that, glaring up at Kuroo and moving his hands to press Kenma’s legs flat against the bed as he changed the angle of his mouth. 

His lovers knew too much about him. Too much about his kinks, his desires, the things that drove sensation sweet as sugar deep into his gut. He loved it, though, loved the way he was pinned down, loved Kuroo murmuring all kinds of dirty phrases into his ear, loved the way Akaashi’s nails pressed into the skin of his thighs as he sucked him off. The only thing missing was Bokuto. Bokuto would come later, though. He wanted to laugh at that because Bokuto really would come later - but Akaashi was doing something with his mouth that made him gasp and call out, feeling everything building into something so delicious he could almost taste it, coiling in his belly, tightening and pulling him over into pleasure. He was losing it. Coming undone. The only things keeping him earthbound were his lovers’ hands on his body, tight and insistent and delicious, and the mouth that demanded everything from him, demanded, demanded, demanded...

And so he gave.

It was perfect bliss, stars behind his eyes, gentle touches and soft sucks that brought him back down until the oversensitivity took over and he squirmed away. He rolled, curling up into a ball and shivering while Kuroo murmured soothing words behind him. 

When he finally came back to himself he glanced back, watching Kuroo holding Akaashi close, giving him a long, languid kiss. It was beautiful. His lovers were beautiful.

Akaashi broke the kiss, threading a hand through Kuroo’s hair and smiling down at him before glancing at Kenma. “You didn’t smudge your nail polish, did you kitten? Because if you did, you know I’d have to start all over...”

Eyes going wide Kenma looked carefully at his nails. They were perfect, though. Kenma couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

Laughing, Akaashi turned to look back at Kuroo. “What am I going to do with you, hmm?” he murmured, tapping his hand against the taller man’s cheek. “So incorrigible, I told you no touching.”

Kuroo grinned up at him, one hand moving down to palm at Akaashi’s ass. “I dunno,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, though.”

Evidently, the first thing Akaashi thought of was another kiss. Kenma smiled, body still buzzing with satisfaction and happiness. Then he turned and picked up his game, listening to the soft sighs and gentle whimpers as Akaashi started in on Kuroo’s penalty.

The sparkles on his thumbs glittered every time he pressed a button. They really were cute.

Sighing in contentment he glanced up at the clock, wondering what all they’d get up to before his husband returned home.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit/talk with me at <https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kaiyouchan>!


End file.
